


The Lifeguard: A Ziam AU

by endoftheziam



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, College, Lifeguard Liam, M/M, Multi, University Student Harry, University Student Liam, University Student Louis, University Student Niall, University Student Zayn, lifeguard louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-18 14:54:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16997115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endoftheziam/pseuds/endoftheziam
Summary: Liam, Louis, and Niall are all lifeguards at the university's pool.Zayn is the hot guy across the lecture hall, and Liam can't stop staring at him. But how is he supposed to talk to him?Liam is the lifeguard who just saved Zayn from drowning, and now he wants to give Zayn swimming lessons? How can Zayn learn to swim when drowning feels this good?Feat Harry as an aspiring actor and songwriter who gets his heart broken too easily, Louis as the heartbreaker, and Niall, who is just happy to be there.





	1. "Drowning"

The Lifeguard: A Ziam AU

Chapter 1: “Drowning”

Liam was not one to become captivated by a single glance, or to put stock in the fantasies of fairytales.  
Liam preferred his stories realistic, his feet planted firmly on the ground.  
He preferred to face life with the expectation that nothing interesting would happen, that he would continue to exist as he always had, flitting from class to class and job to job with hardly any significant interactions to account for the tedious passage of time.  
And then he had walked into that room, and looked at him.  
Just for a second, because that was all it took. A flash of dark hair. Tattoos curling around his hands.  
The boy sat across from him, the entire length of a lecture hall away, nose bent so deeply into his sketch pad that it was a wonder he could see the page at all.  
And even though he was attractive, it was his concentration that shook Liam at first, just the simple fact that this boy, whoever he was, could so absolutely exclude what went on around him, could so completely fall into his art that all else faded away.  
It reminded Liam of the way he felt when he went surfing, like the waves and the wind were the only things in the world that mattered, every insecurity and lovesick memory swept away with the first ride.  
He had never seen someone with such intensity, such blazing life, that he burned in a room full of students chatting, flirting, and texting, the memory of summer too close for them to settle into the grind of a school day.  
And Liam’s mind zoomed forward into daydream before he could stop himself.  
What might it be like to walk over and ask his name? For him to bat those impossibly long eyelashes, dark against his skin, up at Liam?  
What would this boy tell him about the art that he loved so much, it stained his fingers?  
The boy’s black hair stuck up like he’d slept on it funny, and his glasses gave him an added air of mystery. The light glinted off of them, like even it was drawing Liam in.  
Liam had never seen anyone like him.  
And then the the professor clapped once, and class emptied, students packing up their things, complaining about quizzes and paper assignments and the possibility of a frat party, and Liam couldn’t move.  
He had to say something.  
He had to.  
Never had Liam been so swept up in someone.  
Never had a single look sent Liam’s entire world to spinning.  
The boy was coming closer, closer.  
Liam opened his mouth, still at a loss for what to say, all of his skills at flirtation dismissing him in that infinitesimal pause…  
And the boy swept by, to the professor at his podium, who smiled at him as though the two were old friends.  
And Liam, suddenly aware that he was the only other person in the entire classroom, threw his bag over his shoulder and fled.

***

Zayn still hadn’t told Harry he couldn’t swim.  
And it was getting too late to say anything now—he was already in swimming trunks, standing on the edge of the pool.  
A pirate at the gallows, Zayn thought.  
Harry had been begging Zayn to come with him all afternoon. “Come on, you don’t have anything going on and I’m playing a model in the next play. And you spend way too much time inside, reading that stupid book--”  
Zayn had protested as best as he could, adding excuses as quickly as he could think of them. He was tired. He had too much homework to do. He was planning on starting a new drawing, and the empty apartment would give him the perfect opportunity--  
But Harry had never taken no for an answer. When he set his mind to something, it was either get it or die trying. And Harry seemed totally convinced that Zayn needed a workout as much as he did.  
Zayn’s stomach roiled as he looked into the clear blue water. The bottom seemed impossibly far down, and he could easily imagine the water closing over his head, his helpless kicks that would do nothing. The burning in his lungs as he slowly suffocated, until water flooded his mouth, his eyes, his brain, and he thought no more.  
There was no way he could do something like this.  
Humiliated or not, forever branded a nerd on his first day of the new semester or not, Zayn couldn’t get in the water.  
He took a step back, pulling around his backpack as he did so and withdrawing the assigned book for English class, the ‘stupid book’ Harry had mocked him for reading, though it wouldn’t stop him from borrowing Zayn’s notes before the final.  
Harry couldn’t begrudge him for catching up on the reading—they were all behind, a product of an incorrectly dated syllabus.  
At least, that was what Zayn was telling everyone. Not even Harry knew that he had been emailing Dr. Alonzo for the better part of the summer, asking him questions and sending him arguments about Lucy, Darnay, Sydney, and the rest.  
Zayn had never read a book so vivid. Its characters practically bled over the pages, their words sinking into his brain like water flowing into cracks in the sidewalk.  
Harry, with his constant preoccupation with everything Hollywood-related, would not be able to understand the way Zayn could see the characters leaping before him, their words floating up in the air.  
Harry could never understand how that world was sometimes more real than his own.  
And perhaps Zayn regretted that he couldn’t talk to Harry about this, but now was not the time.  
Not when it provided a perfect opportunity to avoid a watery death.  
Zayn turned back toward the chair, holding up the book in response to Harry, who stood next to the kickboards and shook his head as Zayn retreated to a lawn chair. “I’m getting you in the water,” he challenged.  
“I’m not failing English because you can’t be bothered to do your workout regimen over the summer,” Zayn retorted.  
Harry laughed. “After I’m done, you’re coming in with me. I wanna race!”  
Zayn waved a hand to indicate he’d heard and sat down, already beginning to lose himself in Dickens’ masterful words.  
He’d just gotten to Sydney’s introduction when a crash next to him sent him leaping to his feet, looking around wildly for the source of the sound.  
“Sorry,” a boy with light brown hair waved cheerily from behind his aviators. “My coworker here is extraordinarily clumsy. Aren’t you, Liam?”  
He looked over at a boy with heavily set eyebrows, perfectly sculpted shoulders and a pout that any supermodel would envy.  
Zayn took a step back as he looked at the boy for the first time. The boy rolled his eyes and walked away, holding onto the tube as he patrolled the pool.  
“You’ll have to excuse Liam,” the boy said, picking up the lawn chair from where it had been knocked over. “Head always out over the waves, never pays attention.”  
“He’s a lifeguard!”  
“Oh, he sees everything that goes on here. He just never remembers to notice his own two feet. Plus,” the boy stepped closer and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I think he likes you. And Liam is completely useless around anyone he likes. “  
“I—I” Zayn stammered.  
“I mean who, could blame him?” The boy’s eyes roved up and down Zayn’s body, calculating. “Although, I must say that I prefer your friend over there—please tell me he’s not straight. ”  
“I—um—that is—“ Zayn began again, finally achieving normal speech long enough to say. “That’s Harry. He’s training for a role.”  
They both looked over at Harry, who was shaking his hair out at the end of the far lane, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that he was splashing water over everyone nearby.  
“Really? An actor? Excellent.” The boy stuck out his hand, and Zayn shook it. “I’m Louis,” he grinned. “Tell your friend to see me if he needs anything.”  
Zayn blushed, and before he could say anything else, Louis had sauntered away, joining a third guard where he sat behind the main desk.  
Zayn’s eyes dropped to his book again, but the spell had broken. He could feel Louis and the other guard talking about him.  
Worse, he could feel Liam. He could feel the boy’s gaze skate over his skin, and when he finally got the courage to look up, he realized why the gesture had been so familiar.  
Liam was in his English Lit class. And he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of Zayn then, either.  
Zayn had found it irritating at first, the prickliness of Liam’s gaze snapping him out of his concentration, causing him to write nothing more than doodles across the page.  
He hadn’t even dared look up at the boy, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Dr. Alonzo or his sketchpad, doing his best to continue the drawing he’d started earlier, instead of the new subject sitting slightly to his left.  
And now that same itchy feeling of being watched had returned.  
And Zayn had nothing but a book he’d already read to distract himself from it.  
No, you’re not doing this again, he told himself. Not after last year.  
Zayn had been in love too recently to misremember how much it could hurt.  
And this—this giddiness in his stomach, the way his hands almost shook as he turned the pages, the image of Liam playing over and over in his head like an old film reel—this was something he could not get lost in. Not again.  
Zayn bent his head to the book, but he couldn’t concentrate, and it was with a feeling of relief that he noted Harry had finished his laps and was merely treading water in the lane, talking to Louis.  
Zayn shook his head. “Good luck, Harry.” he muttered. Louis seemed like one of those guys who always got exactly what they wanted.  
And Harry had an unerring tendency to fall for those guys, his trusting and compassionate nature more than willing to excuse any warning signs.  
Zayn had spent many a night on the floor of Harry’s bedroom, listening to songs he had written about his latest heartbreak.  
It looked like Louis was planning to be his next one.  
Zayn got up and walked to the edge of the pool. “Hey man, let’s go. I gotta get started on English.”  
“Yeah,” Harry immediately pulled himself out of the water and stood, narrowing his eyes at Louis. “I was just trying to make this asshole go away,” Harry said.  
“You have beautiful eyes,” Louis replied, as lilting and nonchalant as if the comment were an inside joke.  
Harry just scoffed and stalked away, beckoning Zayn to follow.  
When they’d gotten out of earshot, Harry turned to Zayn. “Jerk. He thinks he’s God’s gift.”  
“Your type exactly.”  
Harry rolled his eyes and shoved Zayn, causing him to stumble backward..  
It happened so fast, there was no way for him to recover. One minute he was standing on solid ground, laughing at Harry.  
And the next, Zayn was in the water, moving his arms and legs frantically to no avail. He heard laughter, cut off quickly as the water enveloped him.  
Zayn opened his mouth to scream for help, but water flooded in.  
He was drowning. He was drowning, and everyone probably just thought he was joking.  
He felt a disturbance in the water, some big splash, and he opened his eyes to see a red tube extended toward him.  
Zayn reached for it and grabbed on, gasping as his head broke the surface of the water.  
He coughed violently, even retching up water a little, and it was only as drool dribbled down his chin that his eyes met those of his rescuer.  
Zayn felt his insides shrivel up.  
“Hey, buddy,” Liam said, as though Zayn were a child in need of comforting. “You okay? You good?”  
Zayn started to wipe a hand across his mouth, then grabbed the tube again.  
Liam’s face was alarmingly close to his.  
Oh God, what if Zayn had spat on him?  
“So I’m just gonna swim you over to these rails over here. You think you can pull yourself out?”  
It was only now that Zayn observed the liquid nature of Liam’s eyes. Soft enough to fall into, with flecks of gold. He wondered how he could capture that softness, put it into ink and color...  
I can’t believe I did this.  
“Zayn? Are you okay?” Harry leaned over the edge of the pool.  
“Give us a sec,” Liam said. He bent his head toward Zayn so that no one else would hear.“You never learned to swim?”  
“I---I”  
“Maybe you just wanted me to rescue you.” Liam’s mouth turned up at a corner, revealing an adorable dimple near his chin.  
It disarmed Zayn so thoroughly, he forgot to be embarrassed for a moment.  
Then Liam said, “So the rails are right behind you. You’re just gonna turn around and grab one. I’ll be right here.”  
“I got it, thanks.” Zayn said gruffly, his eyes darting away from Liam’s before he could see a hint of the thoughts racing around in his head.  
Because right now, Zayn half-wanted to drown again.  
He grabbed onto the smooth metal, and pulled himself up, his hands shaking with adrenaline. When his feet found firm ground, Zayn closed his eyes with relief and embarrassment.  
“I’m so sorry,” Harry was at his side in an instant, green eyes wide with concern and guilt, “I had no idea you couldn’t swim.”  
Zayn looked down. “It’s not something I like to tell people.”  
“People?” Harry took a step back, hurt. “But we’re best friends.”  
Zayn shrugged, and Liam’s interjection saved him from answering. “Excuse me,” Liam said, pulling off his soaking wet shirt as he spoke.  
Zayn’s mouth went dry, and he missed the end of the sentence..  
“--office for a second...” Liam was talking, Zayn knew, but he was having a really hard time focusing on his face.  
Zayn blinked and swallowed. It seemed like seconds later that he was sitting in a chair in the aquatics office, looking at framed pictures of small children and feeling rather like he was in a teacher’s office at school.  
Although if any of Zayn’s teachers had looked like Liam, he could kiss that perfect GPA goodbye. Literally.  
Zayn shook his head and forced his eyes to Liam’s face, watching his mouth as the words spilled out.  
Liam’s lips were perfect. Of course they were.  
And now they were pressed together as though he was about to laugh.  
Zayn pinched his leg, and he snapped to attention again, just in time for Liam to lean across the desk to him, waving a hand in front of his face. “You good? Feel dizzy at all?”  
“No,” Zayn lied. He was pretty sure his lack of focus had nothing to do with falling in the pool, and everything to do with the attractive still shirtless person sitting in front of him.  
Liam had a six pack. An honest to God six pack. He had a smattering of hair across his chest and stomach, exactly the amount Zayn liked. Zayn wanted to twist it around his fingers--  
“So, if you’ll just fill out your information here, we’ll be good to go. Standard procedure, sorry.” Liam passed Zayn a sheaf of paper, the details of his ‘incident’ already enumerated in a messy scrawl.  
“So, we’re in English together--” Liam began as Zayn started writing.  
Zayn nodded.  
“Dr. Alonzo really seems to like you.”  
Zayn looked up at Liam, expecting to see dislike or disdain there.  
Instead, he saw only curiosity. And that goddamn dimple that made him want to bite Liam there, just to see if it would go away.  
Zayn shrugged. “I just like reading.”  
“What do you think of the book he assigned us over the summer?”  
“It’s okay,” zayn shrugged noncommittally, refusing to admit that he’d read it so many times, it had ceased to distract him from things like an attractive lifeguard.  
An attractive lifeguard who had just saved his life, and was now talking to him while sitting alarmingly close.  
Dripping wet and shirtless as he was.  
Does he have a towel, or--  
Zayn fixed his gaze on the incident report with steely resolve, only to realize that he’d filled out all the necessary portions, which had been marked in highlighter.  
“I think I’m done,” Zayn said, sliding the form across and standing.  
Something about the entire situation made Zayn feel as though he had missed a step going downstairs. His stomach felt queasy, he was shivering from the cold, and every time Liam’s eyes met his, he felt like passing out.  
“Hang on a second,” Liam held up a hand. “I wanted to ask you something.”  
“What?”  
“Well--” Liam looked down, and for the first time, Zayn saw something like uncertainty cross his features. “I’m not doing too well in school, English especially, and I kind of need a tutor.”  
Zayn blinked. “A tutor?” he asked skeptically. “Classes just started.”  
“And I completely bombed Alonzo’s essay already. If my dad finds out--” Liam stopped. “I just don’t want him to find out.”  
“I don’t know if I--”  
“I can pay you!” Liam said. “Anything you want, I’m good for it. I just have this job to hang out with Louis and Niall.”  
Zayn didn’t know what to say. On the one hand, spending more time with this incredibly attractive man sounded like all of his dreams had come true.  
But Zayn could barely look Liam in the eye. How was he supposed to teach him about Charles Dickens? About Sidney Carton and “you have kindled me, ashes that I am, into fire?”  
“Come on, please, I’ll--” Liam’s eyes glanced around wildly, and a flush darkened his cheeks.  
He was becoming cute as well as sexy now.  
“I’ll teach you to swim!” Liam exclaimed, as though he had lit upon the most brilliant idea in the universe. “It’s a fair trade--lesson for lesson.”  
“But I don’t want to learn to swim.”  
“Yes, you do. Come on, I really need the help. Please?”  
“Fine. But--”  
“But what?”  
Zayn looked down. “I don’t--I don’t want people knowing I can’t swim,” he mumbled.  
A hand gently tilted his face upward, and Zayn stopped breathing.  
“So we’ll hang out after we close. Be here tomorrow night. 10:30.”  
Zayn tried to say something back, but all the air had gone out of his lungs.  
And Liam’s face was way too close to his.  
That dimple practically begging to be kissed.  
Before either of them could move, the door swung  
open.  
“Hey, Liam can you help me move the--oh.”  
Zayn jumped, reclaiming much-needed space. It was a lifeguard that had burst in, this one shorter and light-haired, with laughing blue eyes that widened in surprise as he looked between the two of them.  
“Um--I was just--” Liam began.  
The boy smirked. Before he could say anything, Zayn, seized by sudden bravery, or maybe just the residual effects of almost drowning, pecked Liam on the cheek.  
“See you tomorrow.” He practically sprinted out of the office, so fast that he was halfway to the parking lot by the time he realized he’d forgotten about Harry.  
But when he arrived at their car, it was to find a familiar long-haired figure looming over the driver’s side.  
“You’re smiling!” Harry accused.  
“I--I am not!” Zayn tried to pinch his lips together, but it didn’t help. It felt like his face was stuck in a wide grin. It almost hurt.  
Harry laughed, and Zayn did too, the curious fluttery feeling in his chest swelling so much, he thought he might be lifted off his feet.  
“He’s just teaching me to swim, and I’m helping him with English.”  
Harry shook his head. “Then why are you still smiling?”  
“I--”  
“Oh man, you’ve got it bad.”  
“So do you! When are you meeting up with him?”  
“I’m not!” Harry looked down. “We’re just--talking. If we happen to run into each other when I’m taking you to see Liam, well--”  
“You seem awfully happy to be driving me around.”  
Harry glared at Zayn, and Zayn glared right back.  
Then they burst out laughing again.  
“We’re in trouble.”


	2. 'Floating"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam and Zayn's first lesson. Liam learns about "A Tale of Two Cities." Zayn learns how to float. They both might be in too deep.

Chapter Two : “Floating”

Liam watched the clock tick down to closing time, silently willing the numbers to move faster.  
Zayn was going to be here any minute.  
Zayn.  
Liam knew he needed to be professional, but it was hard when he couldn’t stop thinking about that adorable hesitance, the sudden bold kiss on the cheek.  
He couldn’t stop thinking about what it might be like to kiss Zayn for real. What it might be like to run his fingers through that thick hair, to be close enough to count every single one of his delicate eyelashes.  
He was useless, a total mess. He’d almost poured acid instead of bleach into the cleaning buckets--twice.  
“Hey,” someone snapped their fingers in Liam’s face, and a face swam into focus. Niall, looking at him with exasperation, holding the lifeguard tube like it weighed a million pounds.  
“You were supposed to get me down five minutes ago! What are you doing?”  
Liam jumped. “Sorry. I was just--”  
“Waiting to meet Zayn. Yeah, I know. Louis hasn’t stopped talking about it since I got here two hours ago.” Niall rolled his eyes.  
“I tried to read the book we’re studying,” Liam said, holding up the book he’d been resting his chin on. “It doesn’t make any sense. It’s like he’s not even speaking English.”  
Niall rolled his eyes. “Let me see,” He snatched the book out of Liam’s hand. “A Tale of Two Cities. Romantic, tragic nonsense.”  
“What’s it about?”  
“I don’t know, never read it. But chicks go crazy for it. Some dude gets his head chopped off for the girl he loves, who didn’t even want him anyway.”  
“Let me guess--there’s no action.”  
“Other than someone getting his head chopped off, nothing happens.”  
“It’s gotta be a classic for some reason.”  
“Yeah, because English professors are all stuffy old women with too many cats.”  
“Zayn loves it.”  
“Then he’s worse than the girls I go out with.”  
“Don’t listen to Niall,” Louis interjected from where he’d been sitting at the desk, his thumbs a blur over his phone. “He’s just bitter over Angela.”  
Liam turned on Niall. “Seriously? You’re still hung up on her? I thought I talked you out of that.”  
“No--”  
“He keeps calling her in the middle of the night,” Louis interrupted, eyes still not leaving his phone. “Sending her long, rambling text messages, crying into her voicemail--”  
“I only did that when I was drunk!”  
“I knew you shouldn’t have dated someone named Angela Loverton,” Liam added. “But did you listen?”  
“Her name sounds like a poor translation of an French pop song.” Louis said. “It was never going to end well.”  
“Whatever. Liam—the book isn’t that hard. Figure it out.” Niall stalked away.  
“So--you’re meeting Zayn as soon as we close, right?” Louis continued, utterly unconcerned with the glare Niall shot him over his shoulder.  
“Yeah. About five minutes,” Liam said.  
Louis looked him up and down. “Did you shave this morning?”  
“Maybe.”  
“Put on deodorant?”  
“Of course!”  
“Hmmm.” Louis stood up, leaning in close to Liam and taking an audible sniff. “What’re you--”  
Louis’ face wrinkled in disgust. “Oh, good God.” Louis shoved Liam, causing him to stumble backward into the water, nearly flattening an oncoming lap swimmer.  
The woman stood up, shaking her fist at Louis, who smiled innocently and said, “Sorry, ma’am. Tripped!”  
Liam pulled himself out, apologizing as he did so until the woman started swimming again. Then he rounded on Louis. “What the Hell?”  
“You smelled horrible. You’re welcome.”  
Liam was about to pick Louis up and throw him in the water when a familiar, tentative voice said, “Um, hi.”  
Liam felt his entire body flush with embarrassment. He turned toward the boy who had just arrived.  
The boy he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since yesterday.  
Zayn had abandoned his glasses, which made his eyes all the more brilliant. He wore basketball shoes, swim trunks, and a white tank top with Bob Marley on it.  
“Am I early?” Zayn looked around the pool, which was clearly still filled with guests.  
Liam glanced at the clock. “Nope, hang on.”  
He turned away and blew the whistle. “Pool’s closed. Have a good night!”  
He turned back toward Zayn, who had set his backpack down on the bench behind the guard desk. “So--” Zayn began, a smile hitching up the corner of his mouth.  
Liam couldn’t stop himself from smiling. It was like Zayn’s mere presence swept every annoyance of the day out of his head.  
It was almost like surfing again.  
“I’ll meet you at the shallow end,” Liam said.  
Zayn bit his lip, and Liam almost fell over right there. 

***

 

Zayn was starting to think that this was a terrible idea.  
No, he was certain. This was a very bad idea.  
Not only was he more afraid of water than he’d ever been, but Liam’s friends were still here. Watching.  
Harry had been no help either. If anything, he’d made Zayn more nervous, puttering around their apartment like a fussy old lady, practically jumping off the couch to check his phone every few seconds.  
Zayn had tried to relax before tonight. He’d tried to just zone out in front of Ultimate Spider-Man.  
But Harry couldn’t be still.  
And neither could Zayn.  
They’d left the apartment way too early, then spent ten minutes in the parking lot, where Zayn went over every possible scenario of what could happen that evening, all of which ended in catastrophe.  
“How could you let me do this? I’m not any good at this stuff!”  
“Because I’m your best friend, and I know you better than you know yourself.” Harry didn’t bat an eye at Zayn’s outburst, beyond used to it over the years. “And I know you really like this guy.”  
Zayn put his head in his hands. “I’m going to look so stupid. What grown man doesn’t know how to swim?”  
“The one who wants a hot lifeguard to teach him!” Harry punched him on the shoulder. “Come on, Dude. You can do this! If it goes bad, just say my cat died.”  
“One day, Karma’s gonna bite you in the ass with that one.”  
“No way. Crookshanks is indestructible.” Harry grinned.  
Zayn looked out the windshield at the outline of the gym. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”  
“You’ll do great.” Harry pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen, then put it back.  
“He still hasn’t texted you back?”  
“Not since yesterday.”  
Zayn could tell that Harry was trying not to look disappointed, but the tapping of his fingers on the dash, as well as his erratic behavior all day, gave him away.  
“Hey,” Zayn nudged him. “If he can’t see how amazing you are, he’s not worth it.”  
Harry pushed his hair back from his forehead. “You’re right. I just--I felt something when I saw him. It was like an anchor. Like--gravity.”  
“You’re gonna write a song about him, aren’t you?”  
Harry grinned. “Maybe I already have. And maybe--” he reached across Zayn and opened his door. “You need to stop stalling and get the Hell in there!”  
Zayn felt his hands start to shake again.  
He was going to go through with this.  
He was going to swim.  
With Liam. 

Zayn watched as Liam pulled himself out of the water, talking animatedly to Louis as he did so.  
He’s wet, Zayn thought. Why did I have to pick an activity where he’s wet?  
Liam’s white t-shirt clung to his muscles, and as Zayn watched, he licked a drop from his lips.  
God, this wasn’t fair.  
Next to him, Harry sat on the bench with his arms crossed, scowling over at Louis, who still didn’t seem to have noticed Harry.  
“Just go talk to him,” Zayn said.  
“Absolutely not.”  
“Maybe he isn’t getting your messages.”  
“Bullshit.”  
Zayn reached in his backpack and pulled out his notes on A Tale of Two Cities.  
“Do you think Liam’s read any of this?” Zayn asked. “Should I start with a background on the French Revolution, or will he think that’s too condescending? What am I—"  
“Zayn, Babe, no one’s read that goddamned windbag of a novel except you.” Harry said. “I think you should just start at the beginning.”  
By the bitterness in Harry’s tone, Zayn could tell that he was too focused on Louis to be any encouragement. Zayn shoved his papers back into his bag and walked over to where Liam and Louis were talking.  
The closer Zayn got to Liam, the more his brief flash of confidence burned off. By the time Zayn had actually made it over to Liam, he was seriously considering turning around and sprinting back out of the gym, driving to his apartment, and never going outside again.  
I can’t do this.  
Zayn had hoped that this fluttery, tight-chested feeling might fade with increased exposure to Liam, or at least dull into familiarity.  
But it was the first time Zayn had seen him all over again.  
And that dimple still stood out on Liam’s cheek.  
Zayn wanted to lick him, right there.  
When Liam looked at him, a delicate flush coming over his cheeks, Zayn’s stomach knotted even more. He was going to tutor, and learn to swim, from Liam? Was he insane?  
“You ready to go?” Liam asked.  
Zayn managed a nod.  
“So” Liam clapped his hands together. “Let’s go over to the instructional pool, shall we?”  
“You mean--” Zayn could practically feel himself shrink, the sudden humiliation driving his nervousness from his mind. “The kiddie pool?”  
“It’s a good place for you to get used to the water. Don’t worry.” Liam put his hand on Zayn’s shoulder, and Zayn’s heart short-circuited. “It’s just you and me. Well, you, me, Harry, and Louis, but I doubt they’ll pay any attention to us.”  
Yeah, sure. Just you. And me. Yep. No problem with that at all.  
Zayn felt like one of those anime characters with an exclamation point over their head. “Sure.” Zayn’s voice came out squeaky. “It’ll be fine.”  
Liam laughed. “Don’t worry. Plenty of adults are scared of the water. And none of them were scared after a lesson with me.” He puffed out his chest.  
Zayn tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace.  
“Only way you’re gonna get better is if you try. Let’s go.”  
Liam led Zayn over to the instructional pool. It was about half the size of the larger one, with a wide set of steps descending into it. “Go ahead and get in.” Liam swept his arm out in a courtly gesture. “I’m right behind you.”  
Zayn gulped, but did as he was told, clutching the railing carefully.  
The water was waist-deep, and warm. Goosebumps broke out over Zayn’s skin. The floor was rough under his feet, but what if he slipped? What if he was one of those people who could drown in three feet of water?  
“Alright,” Liam said, and Zayn jumped. He hadn’t realized Liam was so close. He could feel Liam’s warm breath on the back of his neck.  
Thankfully, Liam merely continued smoothly, “So the first thing I need you to learn is how to float on your back. That way if you ever have a shitty friend push you in again--”  
“Harry’s not--”  
“Dude,” Liam touched his shoulder again, tenderly, letting his fingers linger on Zayn’s scapula for a moment. “Joking. Anyway, this way you won’t panic. I won’t be there to save you every time.”  
Are you sure? Zayn thought.  
“Watch me.” Liam swam around Zayn and flipped onto his back, floating effortlessly in the water. “It’s all about weight distribution, and just trusting the water to carry you.”  
“Okay,” Zayn said, trying to sound confident and self-assured instead of terrified. “No problem.”  
Liam stood, stepping closer to Zayn, his dark brown eyes liquid and soulful. “You try. Just--” he held out his arms. “Starfish it.”  
“What if my head goes under?”  
The skin crinkled around Liam’s eyes. “You’ll hold your breath and stand up.”  
“What if I inhale at the wrong moment, and I start to--”  
“Here.”  
He took Zayn’s hand and led him further into the pool, where it was almost up to his chest. “Come out here.” Liam whispered quietly. “Just relax. I’m right here.”  
But Zayn couldn’t relax. He was in deep water, and this ridiculous boy was holding his hand. He was still holding his hand.  
Liam’s fingers were rough and callused, and every time he squeezed Zayn’s hand, Zayn’s heart went with it.  
It felt like every nerve ending in his palm was a brush away from lighting up.  
Zayn’s hesitation must have shown on his face, because Liam said. “Talk to me about something. Something to take your mind off it.”  
“I can’t think of anything right now but--” Zayn stopped, suddenly not sure what he’d been meaning to say. He wasn’t sure what was a bigger distraction: his fear of drowning or the way Liam’s hand felt in his, which made him want to die.  
“Come on, talk to me about the book we’re reading for English.”  
“I thought I was helping you with that later.”  
“Call it multitasking.”  
“I don’t know where to begin.”  
“Well,” and for the first time since the lesson had started, Liam sounded embarrassed. “Let’s just assume I haven’t read any of it. Come on,” Liam’s hand let go of his and moved to the small of his back. “Just fall back, and talk to me. Who’s your favorite character?”  
Zayn could barely breathe, but he managed to force the words out. “Sydney Carton.”  
“Who’s she?”  
“He is--” Zayn sighed. “He’s this poor, depressed, lonely man who walks around the streets of the city at night drowning his self-loathing in drink.”  
“Hmmm. I can see why you like him.” Liam pushed on the small of Zayn’s back, and Zayn let his feet drift up, his stomach tightening.  
Zayn laughed. “No--it’s just--Sydney Carton is the most romantic character in the entire book. He’s not a good person, but he--I don’t want to spoil it for you.”  
“Hmmm. Isn’t there a girl in this book too?”  
“Yes. Lucy.”  
“Does he love her?”  
Inexplicably, Zayn felt himself flush. “Yes.”  
“Do they hook up?”  
“No. It’s not like that.”  
“What? He doesn’t like her?”  
“No--Lucy falls in love with this man, Charles Darnay. And they eventually get married, and have a child. She and Darnay and her father all live together.”  
“I’m not seeing how this is a romantic book. How is it romantic if the guy never gets the girl?”  
“Because--” Zayn felt the water go over his ears, but he kept talking, feeling the echo. “Falling in love isn’t always about getting what you want, or who you want. It’s--becoming alive. It’s becoming the best possible version of yourself, for another person.”  
Liam lifted Zayn’s head, just enough that his ears could come back out of the water. “Is that what happens to Sydney?” Zayn felt one of Liam’s fingers wind around his hair. His face was dangerously close to Zayn, and Zayn swore he saw Liam’s eyes flick to his lips.  
Zayn swallowed. “You’ll have to read it. I’m not doing all your work for you.”  
Liam grinned. “But you are now.”  
“What?”  
“I’m barely touching you.” The hands around Zayn’s back and head vanished, leaving a curious absence in their wake. “You’re floating.”  
Almost immediately, Zayn started to sink.  
As the water closed over his head, an arm wrapped around his waist, hauling him upright. “Well, you were,” Liam laughed.  
“I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t be!” Liam said. “It takes most people weeks to do what you did. You’re a natural. By the time we’re done, I’m gonna have you swimming laps,” Liam promised.  
Zayn snorted. “That may take forever.”  
Liam’s smile got so big, it took up his whole face. The skin around his eyes crinkled, and his lips were impossibly red, and Zayn felt like his heart might fall out of his chest. “I’ve got time.”


	3. "Valentine's Day"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Valentine's Day. Zayn finally figures out if Liam likes him for real.

Chapter 3: Valentine’s Day  
February 13  
“So are we still on for tomorrow then?”  
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t we be?”  
Zayn looked down. “Tomorrow night is Valentine’s Day. I didn’t know if you--if you wanted to--”  
Liam blushed. Zayn loved it when he blushed. It made him look like the chubby little kid he must have been. It made Zayn feel like he’d known Liam since then, even though they’d only really known each other a few weeks.   
Even though Zayn was still hopelessly in love, and hadn’t managed to tell him.   
“I don’t have any plans,” Liam said. “So we can still meet up at ten, if that’s okay with you?”  
“Yeah, sure.”   
They were at the entrance to the complex now, where their respective rides waited. For Liam, a shiny red Camaro.   
For Zayn, Harry, idling in his monstrosity of a car, which still made loud coughing noises in spite of Harry’s attempts to fix it.   
Harry still came every night, ostensibly to get in shape for his latest role, but Zayn knew it was to annoy Louis. To make sure Louis knew exactly what he was missing.  
Zayn also knew that Harry waited out here every night, in in spite of Zayn’s admonitions that he could just take the bus, because he was hoping to see Zayn finally make a move. 

***  
“I don’t know why you don’t just ask him out. You guys clearly like each other.” Harry rolled his eyes as Zayn emerged from his bedroom in his twentieth t-shirt choice of the day. He let out a whoop as he took out a sniper on Call of Duty. “It’s getting annoying.” He said.   
“I--I don’t know.” Zayn pulled at his shirt, a simple red one with a blue Spider-Man emblem, awkwardly, making a face at himself in the mirror. “It just seems so unlikely.”  
“Come on, Zayn. I see the way he looks at you. I see the way you look at him.”  
Zayn shook his head. “He’s just like that with everyone.”  
“That’s bullshit. He likes you. Why not just go for it? What’s the worst that could happen?”  
“I’m wrong, he rejects me, I go into a downward spiral of unending depression, and I am forced to change my name and move to Canada.” Zayn pulled off his shirt and replaced it with the white V-neck he’d been wearing earlier that day.   
He straightened his shirt, then noticed Harry watching him in the mirror, a pitying expression on his face. “Fuck,” Harry said finally. “You really aren’t good at this, are you?”  
Zayn turned around to face him. “You’ve known me since we were five, Harry. Have I ever asked someone out? Have I ever been in a real relationship?”  
Harry frowned. “I always thought that was because you didn’t like anyone.”  
Zayn shrugged. “I just don’t like asking questions I already know the answer to.”  
“Listen to me,” Harry implored, the game forgotten. “Liam’s different. Don’t let him slip away because you’re scared.”  
Zayn ran a hand through his hair. “I just don’t see why he won’t do anything.”

***  
There were exactly three steps until they’d have to split apart and go to their separate cars. Otherwise, it would look like Zayn was walking Liam to his car, which wasn’t something you did for your swim instructor, or the kid you tutored.   
Three steps, and Liam would say goodbye, those soulful brown eyes meeting Zayn’s for the last time of the day, the last time Zayn could capture the exact slant of his eyelashes, the strong buttress of his chest and the hard line of his jaw.   
Zayn sometimes thought he lived for these moments.  
Like he was absorbing these last few seconds where it was just him and Liam, and the whole world was in the background. Like Liam was a heat lamp, and he was a lizard, snuggling up to his warmth.   
These goodbyes--Zayn’s hands were already shaking, and Liam wasn’t even looking at him yet. He was half-grateful. If Liam looked into his eyes, he’d see everything. He’d see how far gone Zayn was, how every second was only making Zayn fall harder.   
Liam would see that Zayn had fallen for him. Completely, utterly, devastatingly. Even if it came to nothing, even if Liam didn’t even think of Zayn that way, even if Harry was wrong and Zayn’s highest hopes were there only to be crushed, like they always had been, over and over again.   
Once Zayn fell, there was never any going back.   
“Well, I’ll head out then,” Liam said.   
He turned to Zayn, and Zayn wanted him to lean closer, so close he could count every single one of his eyelashes. He wanted Liam so close that he could kiss that mole on the side of his face, put his fingers in Liam’s dimples as he smiled.   
God, what had he become in these last few weeks? How had he become this mess of a person? This person who actually put stock in things like Valentine’s Day.   
Liam held out his fist, and Zayn’s eyes flicked downward, focusing on it. Trying to steel himself against the deflating feeling in his chest.   
Zayn bumped Liam’s fist with his, and even that little contact made him go weak at the knees.   
How could this all be one-sided? How could Liam not feel it?  
“See ya tomorrow,” Zayn turned away quickly, hoping Liam couldn’t see the disappointment on his face. He just wanted to get in the car and lean against the window and let all his feelings leak out of him into the night. He wanted to climb on top of a hill and scream, scream about this feeling in his chest, this ache that he couldn’t stop wanting to feel, this monster inside of him that had woken up when Liam had first spoken to him.   
I’m in love, and it hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts--  
“I wish you to know with what sudden mastery you have kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire.”  
For a moment, Zayn thought he’d spoken the words himself, or hallucinated them. Had his dreams finally bled into reality? Was this boy, literally and actually, driving him insane?  
But he could feel the words hanging in the damp, misty air. He could practically see them, highlighted beneath the streetlights.   
And when he turned to look at Liam, the look on the other boy’s face made him stop breathing entirely.   
Liam took a breath. And Zayn saw something like fear in his eyes. Something that spoke to the magnitude of the moment. The way the words were a turning point, and the way everything felt frozen in the air.  
“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Liam said. Then he walked toward his car.  
Zayn didn’t start moving again, didn’t start breathing, until Liam had driven off.   
He listened to the frantic drumming of his heart, pounding an undeniable hope into his veins, in spite of all his attempts to silence it.  
See you tomorrow.   
***  
“Why didn’t you just run up to him and kiss him?” Harry asked. It had taken about twenty seconds for Zayn to tell him why he’d been standing in the middle of the parking lot like a zombie.   
“You look like you’ve been hit by a bus,” Harry had said. “What’d he do?”  
Now, Zayn leaned back in the passenger seat, pressing his hands into his eyelids so that little starbursts of color appeared behind them.   
“It was like, I was frozen. Like I couldn’t believe it was happening.”  
“So you just stood there like a chickenshit.”  
“I just stood there.” Zayn pulled his hands down his face. “Oh, God, what if this was my one chance and I blew it? What if he thinks I’m a weirdo now?”  
“Zayn, babe, you get excited about classic literature. You are one of the weirdest people I’ve ever met.”  
“I just felt this insane pull you know? Like the air itself was shaking with the moment? Have you ever felt like that? Have you ever felt like you’re going to come apart because you want someone so much?”  
“Dude, I’m a musician. I feel like that all the damn time.” Harry’s eyes darkened. “I feel like that right now.”  
Zayn touched his shoulder. “Hey. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking about me this much. How are you doing?”  
“I’m still writing about him, and he’s still not paying attention to me. So, fine.”  
“If it helps, he stares at you every day. He looks at you like he’s a puppy you kicked.”  
Harry’s mouth was a firm line. “He should have thought about that before he slept with other people.”  
“Look, it’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna hang out tomorrow night, and watch the worst action movie we can find, and drink so much whiskey our heads spin. It’s gonna be awesome.”  
Harry shook his head. “Oh, Hell no. I am not stopping this.”  
He looked at Zayn.  
“Harry--the road.”  
“Don’t worry about it. You worry too much. Listen--” he changed lanes without even glancing in his rearview mirror. “I am going to be sad and bitter tomorrow and there is nothing that can be done about that. But I’ll be damned if I’m dragging you down with me.”  
“Harry, nothing’s gonna happen--”  
“That’s what you always say, Zayn! But what if it’s different this time?”  
Zayn shook his head. “He helps me swim, and I teach him about Charles Dickens. That’s all.”  
Harry looks back at the road. “That hasn’t been ‘all’ since you met, and you know it. I can see it.”  
“It’s been over a month since we started this! And nothing ever happens. I get fistbumped back into the friendzone every time.” Zayn laughed, but it wasn’t a happy one. “And I’m still--I still can’t stop thinking about him.”  
“You’ve gotta go for it tomorrow, dude. Even if it doesn’t work. This can’t go on.”  
Zayn said nothing.   
Harry stared at him again, swerving around two semis in the process. “Seriously. This angst shit has got to stop. If I keep hearing Mayday Parade coming out of your room, I’m gonna throw a tire through the wall.”  
February 14  
Zayn clawed his way to the surface, gasping for air.  
“So, um. I’m not gonna lie. That wasn’t the best dive I’ve ever seen.” Liam began. “But it was definitely better than your last one.”  
“I still don’t see why you’re teaching me this,” Zayn said. “I just need to learn how to not die.”  
“Because it scares you. And my students never leave afraid of anything.”  
“That’s ridiculous.” Zayn protested, still spitting out water. “I’m scared of jumping out of planes. Would you suggest I try that next?”  
“Maybe. If you had a parachute.”  
Zayn scoffed and swam to the side. “So what now?”  
“That’s it.” Liam clapped his hands. “Meet me in the conference room.”  
Ten minutes later, Zayn wandered into the conference room to find Liam, fully dressed but with his hair dripping, sitting hunched over A Tale of Two Cities, pen held between his teeth.   
In spite of their time spent discussing the novel, Zayn had never actually seen Liam read it. Truth be told, he wasn’t convinced Liam had actually read any of it. He’d thought Liam had just been skimming the Spark Notes.   
Until last night.   
I wish you to know with what sudden mastery you have kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire.   
Zayn hadn’t imagined that, right?  
All day, Zayn had expected Liam to at least allude to that passage. To what it meant. Sydney Carton spoke those words to Lucy to confess his undying love for her.   
It was Zayn’s favorite passage. Sydney made it clear that he knew Lucy loved Charles Darnay, he never regretted that her heart belonged to another. In fact, it gave him comfort to know that she would be with someone else, for Sydney knew he could never become what she deserved.   
He would have been conscious this day and hour, in spite of his happiness, that he would bring you to misery, bring you to sorrow and repentance, blight you, disgrace you, pull you down with him…  
You couldn’t just quote words like that and expect it not to mean anything.   
But the entire night, Liam had never alluded to that moment. He hadn’t acted like they were anything but acquaintances.   
It was like it had always been. Little touches. Looks that went on a little too long. Comments that hovered just on the edge of friendship, just on the brink of free-fall...

Liam read like it was the most difficult thing in the world. It was almost funny. His brow was furrowed so far in concentration, it made his eyebrows come together.   
As he read, Liam kept touching his lips. Zayn tried not to stare at them, and failed miserably.   
He knew he should have announced his presence somehow, but the seconds stretched into minutes, and still Liam read, and still Zayn watched Liam read.   
Finally, Zayn moved closer to the table, and Liam jumped, causing the pen to fall out of his full, red mouth. 

“So since Professor Sinistra’s exam is in a week, and we’ve pretty much gone through the whole book already, I thought we’d just go over the most common essay topics,” Zayn began, reaching in his backpack for his sheaf of notes.   
He could feel Liam watching him. Like an itch.   
He always felt it.   
There was something different about the way Liam’s gaze felt. No one else’s attention felt quite as--close.   
Zayn arranged his papers neatly, adjusted his glasses on his nose, and finally looked up to find Liam…  
Writing earnestly in his notes section.   
“So--” Zayn coughed. “Are there any elements you want explained? Any character’s actions you want examined?”  
“Yeah,” Liam looked up, tipping his head to the side as he did so. His eyes narrowed. “I wanted to talk about Sydney Carton.”  
“What about him?”   
“Well. I don’t think he really loves Lucy.”  
Zayn tried to keep an open mind, but he could already feel his cheeks growing warm. “I highly doubt that Sydney would have died for her if he hadn’t loved her.””   
“But he doesn’t try to get her! I mean, come on, he spends an entire chapter confessing his love for her, and then what? Is content to stay in the friendzone forever?”  
Zayn was really, really trying not to get angry. He took a breath. “I think--” he paused, trying to gather his thoughts into more than just incoherent rage--”I think that’s an incorrect assessment. Sydney loves her selflessly, selflessly enough that he becomes whatever she needs. He knows that he can never be good enough to be with her romantically.”  
“Says who? So he parties a little bit. Who cares? He’s got money, and he loves her!”  
“But she doesn’t love him,” Zayn argued.   
“She never gives him a chance!”  
“You’re missing the point!”  
“The point?” Zayn had never seen Liam this upset. “The point is that he loves her, and he doesn’t fight for her. He doesn’t say, ‘I love you, and I think you should pick me.’  
“Because he knows he can’t make her happy.”  
“He doesn’t give himself a chance! He doesn’t give her a chance!”  
“Liam--”  
“All I’m saying is, if you like someone, you fucking do something about it. Even if they’re with someone else, even if they say no, you still give them that choice. You still get to be selfish enough to say, I want you. I think you would make me happy.”  
Zayn was trying, really trying, not to read into Liam’s words. But Liam’s veins stood out in his neck, and his fists clenched and unclenched.   
“But it would be worth it, wouldn’t it? To see them happy, even if it wasn’t with you?”  
Liam didn’t say anything for a long time. He just looked at Zayn.   
Finally, Liam said “So I think Sinistra’s gonna ask about Madam Defarge and her goddamn knitting needles of death or whatever, right?”   
“Okay, no. That’s it!” Zayn stood up. “I’m leaving.”  
“Leaving?” Liam looked so adorable when he was bewildered. It was infuriating.  
“You’re going to have to find another tutor.” Zayn said stiffly, trying to avoid all eye contact as he swept his notes into his bag. “Our arrangement--it can’t continue. But thank you for the lessons. I have to go.”  
Liam tried to stand up, but he bumped his knee on the edge of the desk. He grabbed it, swearing, and Zayn took the opportunity to bolt out the door, before he could change his mind.  
Halfway down the hallway, Zayn heard Liam shout, “Wait! Zayn! Please tell me what happened back there.”  
Zayn ignored him, moving forward until he reached the big double doors at the entrance. He could see Liam’s Camaro, and Harry’s giant brown car, headlights on, coughing a cloud of exhaust.  
He was about to push open the door when a hand reached over and pulled it shut.  
“Please, Liam.” Zayn said, still doing his best to avoid eye contact. “I need to go.”  
“You don’t get to run out on me like that without at least giving me an explanation. Look, if I insulted your book, I’m sorry.”  
“It’s not my book.” Zayn muttered. “It’s a classic. It’s one of the greatest novels of all time.”  
“Okay,” Zayn could hear the laughter in Liam’s voice, but he wanted nothing less right now. “I’m sorry I insulted A Tale of Two Cities.” Liam ran his hand through his hair, and the motion made Zayn look up at him. “I was just trying to get your attention.”  
“My--attention?” God, he was going to see it. He was going to see all of it. If Liam didn’t stop looking at him, he would see everything.  
Liam bent his head closer. “I was trying to tell you that if you like someone, you should tell them.”  
“I--”  
“Zayn,” Liam said. “I like you. You’ve been driving me crazy for the past month--”  
“But you never said anything! I always thought you were messing with me, or I imagined it. Fuck, Liam, I think I’m losing my mind, and--”  
But Zayn couldn’t say whatever else he had been wanting to say, because Liam was kissing him.   
Liam.  
He forgot everything. He forgot that he was angry. He forgot that he was afraid.  
He forgot the end of his sentence.   
Liam’s lips were soft, and his beard scratchy against Zayn’s. He kissed him like he knew what he was doing, long and slow, like nothing else mattered and they were the only two people in the world.   
They were the only two people in the entire world. In the entire universe.   
Zayn had kissed a couple of boys before. For a dare at parties. In dark corners at clubs.   
But he’d never been kissed like this. Like Liam was drowning, and he was air.   
And Zayn had never felt like this before. This hunger, drawing him in. This inexorable pull, like gravity, slotting their bodies together, backing them up against the wall.   
Liam’s lips pushed against his, and Zayn pushed back. Liam was all he wanted, and he was all around. It was devouring, it was swallowing, it was--  
Pure. Magic.   
When Liam opened Zayn’s mouth with his, Zayn thought he was going to come undone right there, in the middle of the hallway.   
He thought looking at Liam had made the air particles shake around him.   
But kissing Liam…  
The world broke apart and reformed around him. Empires crumbled and reformed, a single star built a galaxy, then exploded into dust.   
This was more than a kiss.   
This was everything.   
And Zayn knew he would never be the same.


End file.
